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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939349">Never Off the Clock</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandi19/pseuds/pandi19'>pandi19</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherhood, Cancer, Catharsis, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jack always has Mac's six, Sad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandi19/pseuds/pandi19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mac receives a bad diagnosis and tries to push his partner away, Jack proves that he always has Mac’s back. Post-season 4 &amp; probably, somewhat, definitely AU from season 5.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dalton &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never Off the Clock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Disclaimer/Warning:</b> Anything you recognize is not mine.<br/><b>Author's Note:</b>I’m on a mission to explore my writing process and follow the muse, so this is a little out of my typical sandbox. While I have researched and have some firsthand knowledge, I’m not a medical professional and some things have been worked for the story’s benefit. </p><p>This story deals with cancer and has been described as sad. As the writer, this pulls from lived experience and does not evoke the same emotion for me as it may for readers. Please know yourself and triggers.  </p><p>Thank you to <b>gaelicspirit</b> for the beta. Any remaining errors are my own. </p><p>Also, thanks to <b>impossiblepluto</b> for the final read and push to post this. </p><p>Over on tumblr, <b>nywcgirl</b> kindly sent in a prompt wanting to see a bad medicine reaction for Mac.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they walked down the hospital corridor, Mac broke the silence. “You don’t have to stay the whole time, Jack. You could go back to work and help Riley with her tech upgrade. She could probably use your height with the cords. I’ll text when I’m about done.” </p><p>Jack reached out, his arm serving as a bar, stopping his partner from continuing. “Mac. We already had this conversation and I’m staying.” </p><p>Mac’s face was unreadable. Jack hoped he was at least a little relieved, but knew his partner often shoved him away during the tough moments. What Jack could see was the lines of exhaustion across Mac’s gaunt face, the dark spots painted under his eyes, how his normally bright eyes were now a dull, steely blue. What gears were turning in Mac’s head was a mystery. </p><p>“I don’t need you to helicopter-parent me,” Mac said flatly. </p><p>“I don’t do that,” he hissed. “I kept Bozer from third-wheeling this.”</p><p>“And I appreciate it, not having him here to mother-hen on top of whatever red-alert protocol you’re operating under,” Mac implored, “but you can’t do this to me. Please, Jack.” It was as close to pleading as he ever got.</p><p>Mac’s words tore at Jack’s heart, threatening to be the crushing blow in this entire situation for Jack. To him, watching Mac’s six wasn’t a day job, didn’t have weekends. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his partner—especially while trying to protect him. </p><p>They moved closer to the side of the hall an orderly wheeling a patient past them. </p><p>“Hoss, I’m here to support you, not make things harder than they already are. All I wanna do fill out a couple <em>Highlights! </em>and keep you company. That’s it, okay?” </p><p>Mac gave him a small smile in reply. </p><p>They stood next to a wide door with writing and a sign hanging from the ceiling. Jack read and realized they’d reached their destination: oncology. In that moment, he felt an icy stone form in his gut, full of memory and dread from long ago. Ignoring it, he grabbed the door handle and met Mac’s blue eyes, “Ready?” </p><p>As Mac checked in and they waited to be called back, neither man talked. </p><p>In the silence, Jack’s mind began to wander back to things he didn’t want to remember but couldn’t escape.</p><p>
  <em>Jack called to Mac as he came out into the deck. “Hey, Hoss. Boze said you were out here. Grabbed you a cold one on my way out.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mac looked up from the fire pit flames he’d been staring into. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sat down next to his partner and passed the beer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I had medical run a few tests last week,” Mac started. Jack noticed how the kid didn’t meet his eye. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jack frowned. “Desi gave you mono for real?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After weeks of back-to-back missions, everyone on the team had been into medical with one ailment or another. Sinus infection for Riley. They’d diagnosed Bozer with a common cold. Desi quarantined with mono. Even Jack had gone in with a case of bronchitis. The only one who hadn’t gone down to medical was Mac.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Uncomfortableness crept through Jack’s body as Mac remained silent. “You coming down with something, kiddo?”</em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>Jack mentally kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. There were dark rings around Mac’s eyes and fever spots marring his cheeks. Sitting in the Adirondack, he curled into himself like he did when ill.</em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>When Mac’s blue eyes met his own, Jack’s heart plunged deep into his gut. This was bad, really bad. </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>“Um.” Mac paused, then gripped the arm of the chair and took a shaky breath and cleared his throat. “Yes and, uh…no. I’ve felt off for a while and thought maybe I had mono too…didn’t want to worry you so I went down to medical when Matty had you on that LAPD milk run, you know, just to get checked out,” he stumbled through, his words halting and quickening alternately. “But they found some anomalies in my labs. I have cancer.”</em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>Whatever edge they’d been on since James’ death and Codex, this pushed them over into the abyss. In his soul, Jack scrambled to find purchase to stop his descent or pull Mac back, but he couldn’t. They’d always handled things together. And now Jack felt like he was twenty klicks behind with the day pushing to dusk.</em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>For what it was worth, Jack didn’t look away. Without thinking, he was out of his seat and kneeling in front of Mac, grasping his partner’s fragile hands, all while maintaining eye contact. He didn’t apologize or chastise, instead honoring his Wookiee Life Debt to Mac. “No matter what happens, I’m here.”</em>
</p><p><em>Years before duty and loyalty to his country had left him out of his father’s treatment and disease. He wouldn’t let that happen with Mac. </em>Mac<em> was his duty. Jack wasn’t about to leave the kid on his own. </em></p><p>“Earth to Jack,” Mac squawked through his hand as though it was a receiver bringing Jack back in the moment.</p><p>Jack blinked to see his partner was already through the door and in the empty waiting area of oncology.</p><p>“Sorry, I was just thinking,” he muttered, shaking his head. He forced himself to let go of the door handle and crossed the threshold.</p><p>“Don’t hurt yourself, old man,” Mac teased dryly.</p><p>Check-in and paperwork went quickly. Picking up an extra clipboard from the receptionist, Jack took over half of the forms from Mac to fill out himself. If they were honest, between the two of them Jack was more qualified to fill them out given how many sideways missions ended them up seeking medical treatment. Family history, <em>check</em>. Allergies: penicillin and stone fruit…and whatever gave Mac that rash in Hamburg. Emergency contact – Jack Wyatt Dalton, <em>in the flesh</em>. If Mac objected, he didn’t say anything. He filled out his portion, then waited for Jack to finish, then walked everything back up to reception.</p><p>Before Jack knew it, a nurse came out calling for Angus MacGyver.</p><p>“It’s Mac,” his partner softly corrected as he got to his feet and began walking toward nurse at the open door.</p><p>As Mac made his way across the waiting room, a ball of nerves coiled into Jack’s gut. Up to this point, Mac had done the appointments unbeknownst to him – alone. Through the door, the nightmare became real for Jack, too. Mac was sick. The dangers they faced were supposed to be ones that he could guard his partner from, ones that he could eliminate from fifteen hundred feet while looking through his sniper scope, they weren’t supposed to be Mac’s own body against him.</p><p>Sensing this was his last opportunity to prepare, Jack scooped up an armful of magazines and followed Mac and the nurse back. The smell of antiseptic filled his nose as they made their way through the oncology wing past closed doors and offices. Each step solidifying the shitstorm they were coming to…magazines probably wouldn’t help.</p><p>In contrast to the empty waiting room, the ‘chemo room’ was bustling with activity. A group of four patients in the center of the room were engaged in what looked to be a serious hand of blackjack. Maybe two or three patients were getting their chemo solo. Other few patients and companions sat in the chairs that lined the walls reading or doing crossword puzzles, some in deep in conversation or watching an old episode of <em>I Love Lucy </em>that was playing on the mounted TV. Jack hoped seeing others receiving support eased Mac’s desire to do this alone.</p><p>As they found Mac’s chair for the next few hours, a young, petite nurse walked up. “Hey there, Mr. MacGyver. My name’s Sophie, I’ll be handling your infusion today.”</p><p>His partner reached out a hand in greeting, smiled, and politely introduced himself as Mac, then continued. “This is my friend, Jack. He might step out for a bit once we get started.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Sophie.” Jack said before the nurse excused herself to grab Mac’s kit so they could get started.</p><p>Jack bit his tongue to keep the argument from spewing out. After eight years of knowing Mac, he knew once the kid’s mind was made up there wasn’t anything he could do.</p><p>Instead, he sank into the hospital chair next to Mac’s more padded recliner and began forcefully thumbing through a magazine, deliberately not looking at Mac. Jack dug deep within trying to fortify his heart to not let his hurt be known.</p><p>“So, are you waiting until I’m hooked up to go off on me?” Mac asked.</p><p>That brought Jack’s head up. He quickly released his own upset and stowed the magazine, giving his full attention to Mac. “What? No. I’m not going to argue with you,” he replied, letting compassion color his words.</p><p>Mac gathered himself up hospital recliner and hugged his knees, watching Jack warily as if waiting for Jack to change his mind and explode. The last thing Jack wanted was Mac with his guard up. It defeated his whole purpose in coming.</p><p>Reaching out to gently touch Mac’s upper arm, Jack spoke, “I’m not here to make things harder for you, Hoss. Thought you could use a friendly face that you don’t have to perform for…that’s all. I can step out for a bit after Sophie gets this show on the road, if you want.”</p><p>A single tear slid down Mac’s cheek and onto his pant leg. He shifted his head to wipe the wetness away.</p><p>It was Jack’s undoing. Since finding out about the cancer, he’d held himself together around Mac. His face folded with grief.</p><p>Their tears were dried by the time Sophie returned with Mac’s first infusion back: saline and anti-nausea meds.</p><p>“Alrighty,” Sophie said, swapping out the saline for Mac’s chemo cocktail. “Welcome to the party, pal.” Her lip quirked up in an apologetic smile. “As this gets going, I’m going to hang around with you fine gentlemen and make sure you’re not having any adverse reactions, Mac. Let me know if you start feeling funny or can’t breathe.”</p><p>“Adverse reactions – you mean more than hooking him up to literal poison?” Jack asked.</p><p>“Jack,” Mac warned. </p><p>Taking the message, he rephrased. “Sorry, what are we looking for? Is he going to swell up like Violet Beauregard and float away or something?”</p><p>Sophie giggled. “Swelling, yes, that would be a reaction. This doesn’t have the ingredients for him to turn into a blueberry though.” She then listed a few side effects like itching, hives, or a rash.</p><p>“Mmmm, I taste metal,” Mac interrupted sending Jack’s worry-meter into the red. “That’s a normal side effect I read about.”</p><p>Panicking, Jack looked from Mac to the nurse and back to Mac. <em>What was happening? Why wasn’t Sophie moving? </em></p><p>“Yeah, that’s typical with this cocktail,” Sophie answered, clearly impressed her patient had done his homework.</p><p>“Nerd.” Jack shook his head. Pulling in a deep breath, his false-alarm panic started to fade.</p><p>In a rare moment, he wished they were at Phoenix Medical where everyone knew them and make sure to lay out the full picture for them. Jack fought the urge get his phone out of his pocket and look up symptoms and side effects on WebMd just to make sure there weren’t more he needed to know. This ‘wait and see’ method for side effects didn’t put Jack at ease.</p><p>He let his nervousness do what it did best: entertain. Starting first with quizzing Sophie on the <em>Die Hard</em> franchise, then following with ranking his favorite Bruce movies of all time. Mac chimed in occasionally and rolled his eyes at all the appropriate moments.</p><p>“Ever watch <em>Moonlighting</em>? Now, you’re a little young and probably missed the original run, Sophie, but don’t let it stop you. It has everything. My main man, Bruce – no offense Mac—” He winked at Mac, drawing yet another eyeroll. “Cybil Shepherd, mystery, comedy, drama, romance.”</p><p>“Wow,” the nurse commented. “You weren’t kidding about Bruce Willis. Seems like Mac might be at least tied….”</p><p>“Hell, yes,” Jack replied automatically. “He’s the best.”</p><p>Mac’s cheeks reddened slightly at the compliment.</p><p>“You guys meet in Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sophie asked.</p><p>Jack raised his eyebrows. “We served together in Afghanistan.”</p><p>“How’d you know?” Mac asked before Jack could ask himself.</p><p>Sophie shrugged. “Just a vibe. We see quite a few veterans here and my older brother served. It’s good to see brotherhood at home.”</p><p>Jack sent a silent <em>thank you</em> to the Big Man Upstairs and his pop for choosing Sophie as Mac’s nurse.</p><p>“Well,” Sophie started, checking her watch. “You’re looking good so far. I’m going to go check on a couple other patients. But if anything seems wonky, let me or Andi know.” She pointed to the nurse talking with the cardplayers across the room.</p><p>As Sophie left, Jack turned to Mac, “You want me to head out?”</p><p>Mac looked away and softly said, “No.”</p><p>“Okay. I know you’re feeling out of control with all this, Hoss, so if you change your mind…just let me know. I got your six on this whether I’m in the room or not.”</p><p>“Thanks, Jack.”</p><p>Before he started in on his exciting reading material of Reader’s Digests and Woman’s Day, Jack stuck his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out three paperclips.  Handing them over to Mac, he said, “Go wild, dude.”</p><p>They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Mac working on a paperclip sculpture. Jack reading about ’14 Tie-Dye Projects That’ll Elevate Your Wardrobe’. Mac spoke, “Until I saw the scans, I wondered if this was what happened to my mom. Except, maybe, that Codex produced it. Leland was skeptical of Riles and me from the start.”</p><p>Jack set aside the magazine. He’d heard in passing from Matty what had befallen Ellen MacGyver. With as dark and twisty as Mac’s life and the secrets of his parents were, he’d privately pondered Mac’s cancer diagnosis, too.</p><p>Mac chuckled, “And when I got the call that it was cancer, I was – I was happy. Because I might have a fighting chance to get through this. Something engineered with Codex would’ve been a death sentence.”</p><p>Jack nodded. His heart in agreement. “You’ve never met a challenge you couldn’t solve. We’ll get through this, bud. I promise.”</p><p>Mac crossed his arms and rubbed his hands up and down his biceps.</p><p>“Doing okay, Mac?” Jack asked as he shrugged out of his jean jacket.</p><p>“Cold,” Mac replied. He hugged his chest as to retain any sort of warmth.</p><p>Jack braced his hands on his knees and stood up, his joints popped with the change in activity. Glancing around the open room, Sophie was nowhere to be found.</p><p>“Hold tight, bud,” he patted Mac gently on the shoulder. “I’ll find you a warm blanket.”</p><p>His partner nodded tiredly, then pulled his legs up so that his whole lanky body was in the recliner seat and closed his eyes.</p><p>Leaving the chemo room, Jack quickly strode down the hall in search of the blanket warmer. Striking out, Jack continued to the nurses’ station.</p><p>An older, black male nurse sat at a computer working on patient charting. As Jack approached, the nurse looked up.</p><p>“Can I help you, sir?” He asked in a deep, kind voice.</p><p>“Yeah, my friend is here getting chemo and needs a warm blanket. Could you hook me up with that?” Jack leaned against the countertop, reading the man’s name tag: Paul.</p><p>“I can. Wait here and I’ll be right back.” Paul quickly went down an adjoining hall, returning with an armful of blankets and handed them to Jack.</p><p>“Thanks, Paul. ‘preciate it, man,” Jack said in thanks before leaving.</p><p>He carried the blankets in a neat bundle to preserve their warmth. The blanket’s toasty heat produced a light sheen of sweat on Jack’s upper lip by the time he reached the room.</p><p>Mac was still curled up, sleeping.</p><p>Jack set his parcel of blankets down on his own chair and set about separating them, then folding in half to maximize their effect. He spread the first one over his partner’s body, tucking it around his shoulders. He repeated the same with the second. For the third blanket, he folded in quarters and tucked it around Mac’s sock feet, hoping to keep his friend’s perpetually icy toes from freezing too much. Years of being each other’s pockets, in the field and at home, Jack knew Mac almost better than himself.</p><p>Seeing Mac hadn’t stirred throughout his ministrations, Jack frowned. Sick or not, Mac’s hyper-awareness rarely let him sleep in public spaces. Where Jack had learned to rest and sleep wherever as a solider and Delta operative, Mac hadn’t found the same ability.</p><p>He sat forward and raised up slightly to move his chair right next to his partner’s.</p><p>Jack laid the back of his hand on Mac’s forehead and found a sticky clamminess. Carding his fingers through the damp, blond strands, he spoke, “Hey Mac, you doin’ okay, man?”</p><p>Mac’s eyes fluttered but remained closed as if the lashes were glued shut.</p><p>Jack’s gut clenched. Something wasn’t right. Hesitating for a moment, Jack took his eyes off Mac to look about the room for anyone – a nurse, doctor, hell even an orderly. He wasn’t picky. Just patients with their companion. If this had been Phoenix Med, they’d have a whole team descending by now.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck! </em>
</p><p>“Mac, I need you to wake up.” His voice became more insistent, just shy of pleading.</p><p>Jack’s breathing picked up. He brought his hands up to his forehead and clenched them into fists. <em>This isn’t the time to panic, Dalton!</em></p><p>The thought of leaving Mac was almost unbearable. But Jack was quickly making peace with it. He turned around toward the door and saw Sophie entered. He whistled sharply to get her attention and beckoned with two fingers. Jack couldn’t care less that everyone else looked up.</p><p>Sensing the emergency, she jogged over. “Jack?”</p><p>“He said he was cold and when I came back with blankets, I couldn’t get him to wake up.”</p><p>Sophie quickly moved into action, going out in the hall and yelling, “I need a crash cart in chemo!”</p><p>Jack swore. Emotion welled up inside, spilling down his cheeks. He was a helpless spectator.</p><p>The nurse rushed back to Mac’s side. She cranked a lever reclining Mac back, the chair turning into a makeshift gurney of sorts. Jack backed up to the opposite wall giving her the space needed.</p><p>Removing the stethoscope from her neck, she threw off the blankets, then checked Mac’s heart and lung sounds.</p><p>“Hey, Mac. Can you hear me?” Sophie asked. Jack watched as she pulled Mac’s v-neck down slightly, exposing his port and upper chest; then used her knuckles for a sternal rub, digging in.</p><p>Mac groaned deeply, rousing a bit. His eyes searching for Jack while threatening to roll back.</p><p>“Mac, I’m here. I’m here, man,” Jack called out.</p><p>At the same moment, Sophie was talking to her patient as she unhooked him from the infusion, then flicked her penlight testing his pupils. “Mac, you got the Golden Ticket. You’re having a reaction to the chemo. We’re helping you.”</p><p>Three staff entered rolling the cart to them. Immediately, they got into place performing checks and passing instruments back and forth like a well-choreographed dance.  Sophie grabbed a blood pressure cuff and set about sliding Mac’s almost limp arm through the slot.  Taking the pump in her hand, she inflated the cuff, then let it decompress, noting its marks.</p><p>“He’s 90 over 55. Let’s flush his line and get him on saline and oxygen!”</p><p>Within a few terrifying minutes, Mac started to improve. Sophie looked back finding Jack on the floor where he’d slid down the wall. “Jack, you can come sit with him if you’d like. He should wake up for real here in a couple.”</p><p>Jack crawled the few feet over to his chair, then climbed into it. Exhaustion settled deep within, its weight heavy. Everything in the last two weeks, everything he’d been avoiding thinking about had pushed its way to the forefront.</p><p>He leaned across the arm of the chair and swept Mac’s bangs back out of his eyes. Mac’s eyes slit open. Clarity combined with confusion shown in the watery, bright blue.</p><p>“Hey there. Aren’t ‘cha glad I stayed?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Fin</em>
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